


maybe it's all gone black (but you're all I see)

by yesshirbert



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Grinding, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers, Survivor Guilt, They make it to the safe haven, Touching, hand holding, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-18 23:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13691928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesshirbert/pseuds/yesshirbert
Summary: "Thomas could barely seem to recognize what once had been his best friend. What was left of Newt was nearing expiration and Thomas fought back sobs as he was implored to simply end it for him. There was not a fleeting inclination towards using his own weapon against his friend, even if Newt had lost all hope on himself, Thomas wasn’t giving up on him. Deep down, he doesn’t think he has it in him.His friend was still in there, even if he couldn’t express it completely, Newt was still fighting. There was still hope."Thomas makes his peace after losing the girl he loved, while realizing his feeling towards his best friend.This is a Canon divergent "fix it" taking place during and after the infamous "please Tommy, please" scene in The Death Cure film.





	1. Breaking

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I am new to the TMR fandom and recently fell in love with newtmas, so here is my little contribution this beautiful ship. Warning: I haven't read the novels and will be going by the movies.  
> This is unbeta'd (but if you want to help me edit, let me know) and so I apologize for the mistakes and due to formatting issues... I'm going to try and repost with edits later. Rated M for violence, language and smutty stuff.

# Breaking

 

Thomas could barely seem to recognize what once had been his best friend.

 

What was left of Newt was nearing expiration and Thomas fought back sobs as he was implored to simply end it for him. There was not a fleeting inclination towards using his own weapon against his friend, even if Newt had lost all hope on himself, Thomas wasn’t giving up on him. Deep down, he didn’t think he had it in him.

 

His friend was still in there, even if he couldn’t express it completely, Newt was still fighting. There was still hope.

 

Brenda was coming with the serum. He just needed to keep Newt alive until then.

 

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m so sorry,” Newt speaks to him, gently caressing Thomas’s shirt where he had been pulling him from just moments before, recovering himself for a few seconds before spasming back into madness.

 

Newt’s strikes towards him with increased strength as the infection continues to take hold of him, destroying whatever is left of the boy he knew, which is impressive considering how hard Newt fought to break through out of the darkness to address Thomas, “Just fucking kill me already you coward!”

 

Thomas’s stomach drops. He knew it had been coming, but there is no world in which he would ever been ready to hear it.

 

“Please don’t ask me,” Thomas dodges another swing, but Newt manages to tackle him onto the ground and goes for his gun.

 

Thomas stares in horror as Newt lifts the weapon towards his temple, aiming to end his torment for himself.

 

Instinctively, Thomas screams as he snaps back his friends arm, effectively launching the gun onto the ground, “Damn it Newt, I know you can fight this!”

 

For a second, Thomas can see through the blood and bile, seeping from Newt, the darkest of plagues, and see a sadness creeping into his eyes, replacing his desperate anger.

 

“Please Tommy, I love you. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he rasps through his bloodied gritted teeth. Thomas's heart breaks at the mention of those three words because there was no universe in which this was the situation where he'd wanted to hear them finally uttered to him.

 

There isn’t enough time for his words to fully sink in, Thomas can feel him effectively capturing his knife and they’re both struggling on their feet again.

 

Newt slashes with the weapon and Thomas is able to grasp it for himself but his flailing friend attempts to turn it towards him. Both charge for each other, Newt on the offensive, while Thomas deflects the best he can, but he is overpowered and slammed into the concrete. He loses his breath and then sees stars until he is snapped back into the present by the jagged hold of Newt’s knife slicing into his chest.

 

Thomas doesn’t know from where, but somehow he manages to again unarm his crazed friend before he punctured anything important. In the frenzy of the moment, while Newt attempts to capture the knife from him, Thomas registers pain spread across Newt's face and he follows his eyes down his chest, until they land onto the knife puncturing his abdomen.

 

"No, no, no," Thomas pleas, taking advantage of Newt being in a weakened state in order to turn him over, taking the knife out as swiftly as he can, and he is relieved to see that it wasn't lodged in deep enough to have caused damage to any vital organs from what he could tell, before placing pressure onto the wound with his hands.

 

Newt screams until he’s back for a few more seconds, “If you were ever my friend, if you ever cared about me, you’d help me end this.”

 

Thomas drains out every ounce of desperation and fights the urge to let tears spill, “I won’t let you give up, Newt. Fucking fight this!”

 

He summons all of the strength that he can and he turns Newt over completely so that he is the one pinning him onto the ground, one hand still providing pressure onto his wound and the other holding his shoulder down steady.

 

He remembers Teresa's voice over the intercom, "You can still save him." That is all Thomas needs to remind himself of, the fact that he could still save his best friend. Despite how unrecognizable he was this far along his being infected, Newt was still fighting in the only way he could, because he had never been one to give up so easily. This was still the boy who told him that there was a place for them out there in this world and that he had to hold onto hope. No matter how dire their circumstances.

 

Thomas subdued him, pinning his shoulder down as hard as he could, fighting against his thrashing until he had recovered his breath, "There is a place out there for us, remember? I need you to remember. Fuck, I love you too, you know that. Please Newt, Brenda's on her way. Just hold onto me, okay?"

 

There was no telling whether Newt was actually gripping his words, if there was still a part of his deteriorating brain which fought off the infection to grasp onto his broken pleas, but Thomas chose to take his weakened thrashing as a sign that he was still holding onto some hope for the both of them. Just like old times. Thomas didn't dwell on the fact that he had just told Newt that he loved him, because it was the simplest form of the truth.

 

There was no other way around it. And just as soon as he admitted it to himself, Thomas was overcome with a sense of heartache over not having told his friend sooner. There was never time to contemplate or vocalize their emotions because they were constantly reacting to the awful things happening all around them. At the time it always seemed selfish to wish for more than the world was willing to give and they were too young and scared to take it for themselves. Newt needed to know that he had always been loved by him and everyone around him.

 

Newt had told him that what scared him the most about being infected was forgetting and losing himself completely to the virus.

 

And so Thomas reminded Newt of it in the form of a prayer, he told him he loved him over and over again, until he felt that Newt would leave with the words resonating in his brain and his soul. He wasn't alone and he was loved to the very end. It was too much of a risk to bet on his friends finding their way to Brenda on time, Thomas wasn't going to risk Newt feeling in any way like he was alone. Even if in his weakened state he couldn't grasp onto concrete meaning...he just couldn't risk it.

 

There was a softness spreading from the suffering boy beneath him, (yes Thomas choose to believe this, he needed to believe that Newt was still in there), underneath the black blood and sweat and tears, miraculously, Newt wasn't giving up.

 

Thomas hadn't realized when he'd closed his eyes, but he remembered the first time he'd met Newt in the maze and how it felt like it'd been a lifetime ago, the memory of his big goofy grin and open demeanor which had left Thomas staring along after him, wanting to get to know the boy better right off the bat, "Newt, remember the first time we met in the maze and how scared I was? I felt so alone, but you helped me. You believed in me and made me a runner even though most of the others thought I was completely nuts. You never did. Now I need you to trust and believe that you're going to make it." 

 

Once he opened his, Newt was staring into his eyes, and for a second, Thomas let himself stoke his friend's cheek and touched his forehead with his for a few moments, "Tommy, Tommy..." he gasped, his voice breaking like bones against iron fists.

 

Thomas shook his head, "Shhh, please Newt. Don't ask me again."

 

Newt was about to object and Thomas could feel another vicious and delirious attack coming and he knew that he wouldn't be strong enough to fight him much longer, but he needed to keep Newt stable to not worsen his wound.

 

Turned out, he wouldn't need to.

 

The sound of Brenda's calls arose both boy's stares towards the distance and Thomas let out a shaky breath of relief, "She's coming! Stay with me for a bit longer, Newt."

 

There was a glimmer of recognition in Newt's face in response to Thomas's words and he couldn't help but to beam down at him because they would survive this too. Together.

 

Newt, despite his newfound hope, pleaded with him once more, “Tommy, in the necklace I gave you, there's something I've written for you..."

 

A strange panic settled into him at Newt's words. He faced his friend and stared him square in the eye, "And you're going to read it to me."

 

"Thank God," Brenda and the rest of their friends were fast, they arrived seconds later with the temporary cure and thankfully, a first aid kit inside of Minho's backpack, "I couldn't keep him from getting hurt. He's been losing a lot of blood."

 

Minho knelt before Newt and took a hold of his shoulder to help Thomas keep him down, "Hey, hey buddy. You can hear me right? I didn't save your ass just so that you could go and die on me now, you shank," he said to his friend and Thomas marveled at how Newt was seemingly registering his words that is if his calmed expression was any indicator. Brenda was preparing as Gally was positioning himself to help them keep Newt under control to give her clear access for her to give him the serum.

 

Thomas nodded to her just before she administered the shot, but then quickly grabbed at her hand to stop her. Brenda's brows furrowed as she grimaced, "What--?"

 

"I'll do it," he told her and her eyes softened, recognizing the desperation and need and fear in his own. She nods gently, "Thanks, Brenda."

 

Those words were pregnant with so much more meaning than what could be derived from their current context. Thomas's gaze was fixed on Newt, but he understood that from that moment on, he would never be able to thank Brenda enough for everything she'd done for them. How much Gally and Minho had risked as well, but that made more sense. They'd survived unmentionable horrors together for so long.

 

"Yeah, don't fuck this up," he felt her drop the serum into his hand and he nodded one more time in her direction before aligning the needle with Newt's vein, "Okay, hold him down boys!"

 

Thomas took a deep breath as he gently stroked Newt's cheek, "You're going to be okay now Newt."

 

Seconds after Thomas administered the serum, Newt began to convulse and contort beneath them, his more primitive Crank self fighting against the cure, attempting to reject it in order to survive.

 

"Keep him down!" Gally called, struggling to keep his hold on the raging boy, "Fuck he's strong for how damn lanky he is!"

 

Thomas held his breath the entire time and he could sense that Minho was too, "You can fight this Newt," it was barely audible, but Thomas could hear Minho's tiny prayer for their friend as he continued to thrash against them.

 

"He's going to make his injury even worse! Keep pressure on his wound Thomas," Brenda instructed him and she joined in on applying pressure after she'd untied a handkerchief from her boot to soak in the blood.

 

There was too much racing through Thomas's mind, flashes of the last months together, always in a frenzy, racing towards rescuing their friend, their days spent in the glade, quietly shared glimpses of promising moments...The promise of something more right under the surface, like roots reaching to become branches.

 

The why nots, almost, maybe, and not enough. Never enough. There are still so many things he wants to share with Newt, so many things he regrets not doing out of fear of ...what? Losing himself? It seems ridiculous to him now, his fears completely unfounded in the presence of what it is really like to break and shatter onto yourself.

 

"He's calming down," Minho breathed, calling Thomas back from his thoughts. It felt as if he could barely breathe, much less conjure any words, but by God he almost let out a weep of relief when he saw Newt slowly fall back into his friend's embrace without any more struggle. 

 

For the first time in a long time, Thomas saw how peaceful Newt was. Thomas had only been able to see snippets of his friend at his most relaxed whenever he'd let guard down enough to fall asleep near him. After the Glade, during their waking nightmare in the Scorch, Thomas's gaze would land on Newt's unguarded and slack figure across the ground, his openly boyish features illuminated by dying embers. The stark contrast from his always calculating and pensive stares had intrigued Thomas and washed his worries away for a few moments. Hours prior, Newt had assured him that there was a place for them somewhere, a safe place. Before Newt left, he had placed his hand on Thomas's shoulder and he remembers wanting to hold onto him in return.

 

There were plenty moments which mirrored their time in the Glade and then the Scorch, throughout their six months together, lingering touches and soft exchanges of support for one another were common for the pair. They had always slept near each other and sometimes either of them would be caught eyeing the other from their respective hammocks

 

Thomas didn't want to be swept up by his optimistic promise in that moment, but seeing Newt doing something so normal and domestic, well other than the dirt and grime and sand across his face, brought forward images of a future where they were at peace. Back then, Thomas wondered if Newt was still breathing while his lips were slightly agape, his chest barely rising and falling, hair was in disarray, much like right now.

 

Thomas would look back on that almost peaceful image and recall how he'd arrived at the conclusion that if Newt had to leave this world, being held by people who cared for him, his friends for better or for worse, their cries and prayers ringing in his ears until the end... It wasn't a bad way to go. And he wondered if Newt would have forgiven him for not pulling the trigger when he most desperately needed him to. Would Thomas been satisfied with his exit?

 

Such dark thoughts halted once Newt began to wheeze and cough back into consciousness, he wiped away the bile from his mouth and turned himself over to hurl until he could properly breathe again. Thomas hadn't been aware of his vocal musings until Newt fell back into his arms and wheezed, "I'm okay. I'm okay, Tommy...Everyone can stop bloody crying now."

 

Although Gally interrupted the mood by claiming that he wasn't crying and anyone who would think he was is an idiot, Thomas surprised himself by letting out a whooping laugh, his entire body becoming lighter at seeing how Newt's eyes were now his own and not scarred by the virus. He noticed that Brenda's gaze lingered on him, there was a twinge of something Thomas couldn't place in the moment, but he had a feeling that it had to do with how uninhibited he was towards Newt.

 

"You little shank, never scare us like this again," Minho playfully hit Newt on the shoulder, sporting a huge smile of relief on his face which rivaled even Thomas's.

 

"We should haul ass and get him into the Berg," Brenda called Gally back to help Minho with lifting Newt back onto his feet. Thomas took some bandages from Minho's bag and bandaged Newt's abdomen the best he could, "I don't know if he is out of the woods yet. Be careful while carrying him, you two."

 

Thomas was about to grab a hold of his friend but then he remembered Teresa's message, "I have to get Teresa. If there's even a chance... I have to try." He ignored Minho and Gally disapproving stares and approached Newt while he was perched up onto their friend's shoulders. Thomas leaned in to hug his trembling friend, "I'll see you in a bit, okay?" he whispered, Newt reminded him to take care of himself, Thomas took a few moments to finally pull away, then he quickly patted both Minho and Gally on the shoulder before heading back towards Wicked.

 

"Hey Thomas, you better hurry," Brenda called to him and he simply offered her a nod as he squeezed her forearm in reassurance before continuing on his way.


	2. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing! Onward with some angst!

# Empty

Breaking, screaming, hiding, shared kiss, lost. lost. lost.

Gun, hand, trigger, "please Tommy, please." Shot. Lost.

Newt.

Falling

Falling

Screams.

"Wake up Tommy! You're okay now."

There were several seconds where Thomas was still being absorbed back into his nightmares, his vision was blurred and he couldn't focus onto one single thread of reality and so he would slip back in. Back in the confines of his mind, he could hear someone calling for him but their voice was too far for him to latch onto and then a new variation of the same two nightmares would begin as if like clockwork.

This time however, he felt himself being shook into the waking world and when he opened his eyes, he noticed he was inside a tent, almost completely dark and he saw a familiar blond boy, unlike the broken one who he'd witness die over and over not five seconds ago. His friend's eyes were illuminated by the lamp near his cot and they were as warm and inviting as ever, without the dark circles around them that is. He looked good, much better than how Thomas felt, his entire body was waking from its initial sweet numbness. 

He felt a cool rag on his forehead and a dipping in the cot as Newt delicately perched himself beside him. Thomas reached to grab hold of Newt's hand, effectively stalling his ministrations.

"Hey, it's me," Newt said, his brows furrowing as he began to remove his hand from Thomas's hold.

There were still cobwebs in Thomas's mind and he shook his head softly for a second, blinking slowly, "I thought you were dead." It was hard for him to listen to his own voice, it didn't sound like him at all. He realized that his speech was fragmented and he was on the verge of tears at the memory of...

"I thought I killed you," he explained further, his speech more certain and steady and still broken with unuttered sobs bubbling in his chest. Newt's gaze fell from his own, he would later describe feeling shame at that moment, and “We're okay?"

Newt jumped at the question, "Yes, we are. We made it Thomas. You saved me. You did. Brenda, Minho, Gally, and you saved me. You brought back the cure and saved me... Again."

The recovering boy reassured him over and over until Thomas could feel his breathing slow and his chest stopped burning. He still wasn't sure if he believed it and so he stroked Newt's cheek, feeling how the boy's breathing stilled and his eyes penetrated his own. His skin was so soft and cool, unlike the way he remembered him from his nightmare.

I love you.

I love you too.

Thomas shook his head to rid himself of the memory. There was always tomorrow. Tomorrow he would figure things out. Right now he could barely keep himself together, much less his thoughts in order.

Thomas sat up the best he could and he continued to run his hands ever so softly along Newt's chest over his thin green shirt, trying not to hurt him as there were still bandages over his torso. Newt was solid and real and stronger than anyone could've predicted and alive.

Thomas's hands returned to cup Newt's face, he was smirking at him a bit, maybe a little amused by his examination.

No bullet wound.

"Are you quite satisfied? I can assure you again-- we are safe," Newt held Thomas's hand and instead of returning it to his side, he held it there a bit longer, "See?"

Thomas didn't think this was the best time for Newt to be teasing him, but he couldn't help but to offer a halfhearted smile back, despite the pain across his whole body.

"Not all of us."

Thomas, blinked back tears.

Now that he had verified that Newt and him both were indeed alright, he knew someone else hadn't shared their same luck and he couldn't help his heart from breaking from the flooding of memories from within the Wicked facilities. He didn't need to ask if Teresa had made it, he knew she hadn't.

He remembered their shared kiss on the roof and how it felt like goodbye for good. Thomas had felt it, but even then he wasn't giving up on everyone surviving. In the end, it was all for nothing, one way or another, Teresa had sealed her own fate, maybe even from the moment she followed Thomas into the maze.

Newt and Teresa.

Both followed him and he almost lost them both in the span of an hour.

Newt had returned Thomas's hand to his side, his smile had fallen, but he remained facing him, even if he now avoided his eyes, "Thomas, I'm so sorry."

The numb boy couldn't do much more other than nod, he knew his grief would catch up to him soon, but he couldn't find the strength to scream and cry right now. There was only the ghost of mourning, holding tight onto his throat, keeping him from being able to talk about it.

Thomas's eyes fell onto the damp rag at his side, Newt also took notice, he rug it on top of the basin next to the cot and he explained that he had been having nightmares and he was using it to wipe away his cold sweat after he had relieved Brenda from her watch.

"I actually had a nightmare about you too," Newt explained, questioning Thomas with his eyes if it was okay for him to continue his work, absently, the boy before him moved his shirt out of the way as he traced the outline of his friend's newest scar, causing Thomas to in turn hold his breath for a few beats and he wondered if Newt noticed his difficulty breathing (it didn't need to mean anything, as he had suffered injuries to the chest).

It was hard for him to concentrate on anything other than all of his aches and pains, but it Newt's touch felt simultaneously healing and searing somehow. 

"What was your nightmare about?" Thomas inquired, following Newt's strokes with his eyes.

Newt's face scrunched up in a way that Thomas had always found endearing, it usually happened whenever he was thinking too hard about something, "S'not important now."

Thomas chose to let it go. It wasn't like he particularly wanted to discuss his own night terrors either and he had been called back by Newt's continuously lingering touches.

Their fragile and shared caresses weren't out of the ordinary for the pair, as they'd been close in that way for a long time. It was second nature and natural for both. But that was before they'd shared how they felt and it shouldn't change things between them at all, not really, but Newt's touch felt different to Thomas now that he had to be aware of breathing normally against the new static in the air.

Newt's brows knotted as he frowned at the offensive wound, his fingertips circling around his stitches as if conjuring a healing spell with his caress, "I'm sorry Tommy."

Thomas didn't say anything, it seemed ridiculous for Newt to be apologizing to him for something he couldn't have controlled. Whatever hurt him, it wasn't his Newt. Thomas's expression must've softened because the boy sighed and returned his concentration onto the rag and tending to his forehead, "I came in to check up on you, when I heard you calling out in your sleep."

Thomas was quiet for a moment, taking everything in as he was comforted by Newt's touch. Unconsciously, he leaned into him, "You shouldn't worry about me so much and stop feeling sorry over this," Thomas held Newt's hand in turn, holding it still over his wound, "See? I'm going to be okay. You should be getting some rest."

Newt scoffed, "I'm fine. Let me do this for you alright?" he continued to pat Thomas's forehead gingerly, biting his lip from concentration.

"Why?" Thomas was incredulous and when a few minutes prior he wanted nothing more than to hold Newt close, now he couldn't help from pushing him away. His nightmares had also ventured into his deep seeded guilt over leading so many Gladers, so many of his friends, to their deaths. Hell, he'd almost lost his best friend along with the girl he loved. He didn't think he could've lived through the guilt.

Newt stopped with the rag, letting it drop into the basin, drying his hands on his pants, as he thought over his words, his thoughtful eyes falling down towards his lap. Thomas noticed what was so captivating, "Isn't that the necklace you--"

"Yeah. Hope you don't mind me taking it back," Newt winked, "I was going to, uh, you know read something out loud, but it's not important so much now," his voice had grown in confidence and his words so succinct that Thomas, although still curious, and hanging on his every word, didn't push Newt further, "But to answer your question, I meant what I said while I was...well you know."

Newt took a deep breath before he continued, "I do love you and I shouldn't have asked you to--I was being selfish and I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry for putting you in that terrible--"

Thomas ignored the pain and pulled himself up to hug Newt to him, remembering to avoid hurting his wound, "its okay. We can move past that now. You were right, about their being a place for us. And you know I love you and that's all that matters now."

Newt held Thomas to him, seemingly unbothered by his injuries and simply held on as tight as he could, as if by doing so he would be able to pull them both back together again. That's the thing about being broken, sometimes you don't realize until you're given the time and space to just feel the broken shards and tears on the surface and to be at peace with them. As Thomas breathed in Newt's earthy scent (of which would become a way for Thomas to ground himself during times of recurring memories and distress), they understood that they didn't need any more words or explanations, or an elaboration on their mutual feelings. Not tonight. They always had tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are good for the soul! :)


	3. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newtmas fluff for everyone and a sprinkle of angst because this is what I live for.

# Tomorrow

Tomorrow came to pass and it went in a slew of other tomorrows. Weeks and then more weeks passed through with the same certainty as the oceans waves... As they had reached the safe haven, their days progressed with the same certainty as the ocean's tide. Thomas spent hours on the beach, the same and dependable calming feeling against Thomas's toes each morning and every evening, the same reassuring smell of the sea which permeated every aspect of his life. He hadn't quite placed it before, but the smell of the ocean's breeze reminded him of Newt on the first day he woke up after the last city.

He'd spend those moments alone for the most part, everyone wanted to give him his space to think. Especially Newt. Later, he would tell Thomas that after the events of their first night in the safe haven, he really wanted them both to have time to recuperate their thoughts before falling back into a routine of any sort, "It should be a bloody mess because we've been through hell to get here. Everything can't just go back to the way they were."

Newt, despite Thomas telling him repeatedly that they could share the cot, which was a delusional thought to begin with, ended up falling asleep on a chair at his side. They had taken a few minutes to reemerge from their embrace, neither wanting to break the peaceful stillness of the moment. The blond boy had returned his necklace to his person and he fiddled with it every once in a while, Thomas could feel his eyes on him while he was pretending to fall asleep. Eventually, he peeked at his friend from under his lashes, "You're very distracting you know."

The other boy snorted, a wide smirk spreading across his face, "I'm not doing anything, Tommy."

"Please, I can feel you staring at me," Thomas turned onto his side, ignoring the sharp pain, he couldn't withhold his grimace, "I know you want to tell me about the necklace."

"Thomas..."

"Come on, please Newt. I'm crawling out of my fucking skin here and I can't sleep," Thomas whined, attempting to find anything to distract himself from falling back into his dark musings, he would have plenty of time for that later. Maybe tomorrow.

Newt raises his eyebrow at his words, "So your plan is for me to lull you to sleep with the very important--"

Thomas reached out to nudge Newt on the shoulder, "You know what I mean."

The blond at his side shrugged, Thomas could see his cheeks flush ever so slightly, it wouldn't have been noticeable to someone not paying close enough attention, "I wrote you a letter...Essentially letting you know that I wasn't scared and...Fuck."

Thomas grasped Newt's trembling hand, enclosing the necklace with his own, "its fine, I'll stop being an ass now," he joked, relieved to see that his friend no longer looked like he wanted to cry anymore, "Tell me about what I've missed instead."

That was something Newt didn't object to and so he told Thomas everything. About how Minho wouldn't stop pestering him and offering to do things for him all the time, he knew he was just trying to be supportive and helpful, and so he let himself be spoiled, but now he spent more time with Brenda and Jorge. The trio got along well. Brenda was as motivated and strong as ever, along with everyone who they had saved from WICKD. Newt made a point out of thanking her for being fast enough to save his life and she had surprised him by giving him a chaste hug in return. Frypan was still same old Frypan making sure everyone was well and fed. Newt particularly enjoyed having his stew again, although he didn't think he would miss it that much, "I swear I scoffed that marvelous stew down in ten seconds and begged for more like an animal."

Thomas grinned and asked Newt what he'd been doing for the last couple of days, "Mostly tending to you actually," he replied, Thomas's hand was still gripping his as Newt ran his thumb back and forth across his skin without much thought, a slow warmth spreading there. Thomas's lips curved and began making an "awww" noise, "Don't flatter yourself too much, I do other things too to pull my own weight around here. I’m not much help now because of the almost dying thing."

Eventually, Newt continued, Gally was around, mostly helping with keeping everyone fit and trained, in case they ever needed to defend themselves, with some of Minho’s help, and mostly the exercise helped everyone to be focused and centered. Newt confided that he realized how much he'd missed Gally and he was happy to have him back, even if he was still a bit of a dick. This obtained a laugh from Thomas, "You're not helping right now."

"Well I can't help it if I'm an invigorating storyteller now can I?"

It took a few more tries, but Thomas did eventually fall asleep at a reasonable hour. Before his hand could slip from Newt's own, he held onto it for a bit longer before returning it safely to Thomas's' side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :)


	4. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Newtmas flirting for everyone and Thomas mourns for Teresa.

# Time

There was time for Thomas to remember Teresa, an abundance actually and for a period he believed people were avoiding him after the initial happiness of seeing him lucid and walking around. There were many hugs to be shared and a plentitude of laughter and although it all should've aided in calming his sadness, it mostly just reminded him of everyone who weren't sharing in his blessings.

So he put on a brave face and endured, hoping that he wouldn't feel this way forever, kicking himself whenever he would start feeling guilty and then scolding himself for not feeling guilty enough in a tiresome and continual cycle.

Sometimes Newt was there at his side to offer a comforting hand on his shoulder, a slight brushing of knees, a tap on his foot... anything to help bring him back from his memories. Once Thomas's eyes met his own warm brown orbs, he felt like he could breathe again. However, this was only sometimes, for Newt had been busying himself around the camp with any odd jobs he could find.

Thomas knew not to take it personal because everyone was giving him space, but he didn't know if it was helping either. Usually, the best part of his day were the small moments when either boy would be inevitably caught gazing longingly at the other across camp, or during their meals, or completely random moments like during Thomas having dish-washing duty.

Newt had taken his sweet time in finishing with his plate and Thomas would catch his eye while he sauntered over to leave his plate, “Good to see you finally pulling your own weight, Tommy.”

Newt had newly received a much needed haircut, it was hard not to notice, (although he quiet adored his longer-fluffy hair, he didn't mind the shorter cut either), which Thomas motioned towards with soapy hands, “Maybe you would know the feeling if you weren’t so busy being such a pretty boy.”

“Aww, you think I’m pretty.” Newt grinned, sending a flush through Thomas, who needed to concentrate back onto washing plates to avoid the butterflies which inevitably were sent a flight during such teasing conversations, "And not everyone can pull off the manly grizzly, stubble look, you know."

Thomas couldn't help his blush. Had that been a compliment? He swept his fingers on his stubble and longer hair self-consciously, "Ah-thanks?"

Newt winked at him and he could swear he could've been undressing him with his eyes, "Yeah, it suits you. See you around, Tommy." he called as Thomas stood there like an idiot and he walked out before he had time to respond (and most likely embarrass himself).

Before Thomas could straighten up his composure and breathe through his discomfiture to continue with his work, he heard several whistles and claps behind him, mortified over having completely spaced the fact that Newt and he weren’t completely alone.

Brenda, Jorge, Minho, and Sonya were all still mingling in their seats. They all looked like they had just witnessed the most adorable thing in their lives, eyes-wide, perceptive smiles, and Sonya had her mouth covered as she stifled laughter.

“Okay, you all can do your own damn dishes now,” Thomas declared, throwing his rag onto the sink and quickly moved to the door, attempting to hide his burning cheeks as his seemingly entertainment starved friends called after him.

“Oye Amigo, don’t be like that!”

“Yeah, we’re just fooling around!”

“You’re so cute!”

“You two shanks better get it over with soon before either spontaneously combust from all the sexual tension!”

Thomas started at the last comment from Minho and made the mistake of turning around to see him friend wink at him to which he responded by flipping them all off as he left them to their own hysterics.

It was those little moments which made him long for his friend even more.

Later, Thomas smiled at himself and the memory because he had gotten through an entire "flirty" conversation with Newt without feeling like he was dishonoring Teresa's memory. Other than his friend’s mocking… It had been a good day.

"Hey, I miss you," he had blurted out one night week later before heading over to his own makeshift bed after a long day of garden work, while Newt insisted on helping Vince and Sonya with something on the other side of camp.

Thomas's words had been an after-thought that somehow made it out of him, maybe because he was tired and really did miss his best friend, they hadn't been talking the same way they used to. He was starting to fear that the first night after he'd woken up had been too intimate too fast, maybe the "I love you’s" were too bold or too real or too soon, but that could've been his mind playing tricks on him.

It should've gone without saying that they both cared for and valued the other unconditionally, putting words to their feelings shouldn't have changed anything. And they were still close, but that same closeness didn't seem to be enough anymore.

Newt's stride stilled as he turned to look back at Thomas, his mouth slightly agape, the still-burning fire pit flames illuminating the left-side of his now healthy and glowing skin, which distracted Thomas for a beat as he continued to overthink things, "I just mean... We should hang out tomorrow after lunch to catch up?" he asked, checking for Newt's reactions. There were so many things he wanted to reproach him for closing himself off...

"Tomorrow, huh," Newt considered, touching his chin in the same way he always did when he was pensive. Suddenly, he was nervous that the boy would say no or tell him he was busy with something else important. Mostly Thomas thought he busied himself because he wanted to avoid him. However, Newt's playful eyes reached his, he knew the boy was messing with him, "Sounds like a date then."

Thomas rolled his eyes and mumbled something about seeing Newt later and then swiftly entered the tent, hearing what he could only describe as a giggle from his friend outside.

He didn't get much sleep that night.

Finally, tomorrow...  
..  
Thomas recalled the day after the many happy reunions, when he had finally mustered the strength to carve Teresa's name onto stone. He had been watching Minho and Newt do the same with the names of their lost friends and loved ones, and Thomas wondered if they imagined their own names etched into stone, contemplating how close they had been to death. Thomas certainly was, but mostly he stalled himself with such images because he wanted to wait for the right time.

Or rather, he wanted it to feel like the right time to him.

Teresa wasn't exactly well-liked by the bunch given her history of betraying everyone. Given her history of torturing Minho... Thomas couldn't hate her for it. Not for a bit of it because he had once decided that his own friends were worth sacrificing in order to save the world. It had made sense to him for a time. But these kids in the safe haven...they didn't see him that way. They saw him the same way Newt and Minho saw him; as a hero. But Teresa...with her there was plenty of animosity to go around, but Vince had told them that the wall was to help everyone to let go. Thomas needed catharsis somehow. There was no body for him to bury... only memory.

Once he came upon the awareness that there would never be a right time, Thomas made his way towards the boulder as Newt and Minho were leaving and he caught the former's eye briefly as Newt nodded to him in silent understanding. Each clapped him on the shoulder as they walked past.

He was about to let it go when he called to Minho, before he could stop himself, Thomas powered on, "I know what Teresa did to you and that--"

"Thomas, if you need me to forgive her, then it goes without saying because I've come to peace with it," Minho gripped Thomas's shoulders, a quiet resilience in his stare, "Now it's your turn."

Thomas didn't know what to say and settled with a choked up, "Thank you, Minho."

With that, he had formerly said goodbye to the girl he loved, with the absolute understanding that the pain and the remorse’s dark hold onto his soul would remain for years to come.

Laying on his cot more than many days, weeks and years later, running reels of footage, remembrances before his eyes, Thomas knew he'd been right.


	5. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newtmas fluff and smut! Finally haha

The next day, Newt had to help Sonya, upon Vince's suggestion, with scouting and so he rescheduled their meeting for the evening, or as Gally put it, "Your date is on for dinner. Also, tell Newt never to bugger me with this shit again, I'm a busy man."

 

Despite Gally’s uninterested bearing of the message, Thomas believed he’d seen a trace of enjoyment in his eyes. He hadn’t admitted to it then, but later Gally would inform him that he’d been kind of rooting for Newt and him to resolve their “uncomfortably annoying sexual tension” and “act like adults” for a long time, so he was, in his own way, happy for them.  

 

Minutes later, Thomas was surprised to feel a familiar figure settle down next to him, so close he felt the boy's warmness radiating from his skin, he jumped a little, to which Newt responded with a "Sorry, guess I'm a bit early. Didn't mean to scare you." But he didn't look like he was sorry at all, if his grin was any indication.

 

It was early on during dinner, Thomas had picked a more secluded place on the edge of camp to eat, alongside the ocean, his back against a displaced log, he enjoyed watching the way the flames to his back played and danced along the waterline as if fireflies submerged.

 

He didn't feel like interacting with anyone after a long day. Well Newt was the exemption.

 

"What're thinking about?" Newt mused, stealing bits of Thomas's kabob with dexterity and stuffing his face with them. Thomas smiled, admiring the dancing lights emanating from behind them and how they made Newt's hair an even more fiery reddish color.

 

"You, mostly," he replied earnestly, noticing a bit more colour on Newt's cheeks at his words. Thomas felt a similar flush approaching, so he distracted himself by attempting to retrieve a piece of chicken from the other boy's grasp, however, the blond's arms were too lanky for him to reach, "And how fucking annoying you are."

 

Newt ignored the latter half of Thomas's statement, "Well you bloody should be thinking about me, since you miss me so much and all," he winked, Thomas was at a loss for words and stared as Newt victoriously munched on his stolen chicken, "I don't really understand why though. Seeing as I'm right here."

 

There was a moment of silence between them, interrupted only by the occasional breaking of waves against distant cliffs, as they continued to share Thomas's food and he was both hyper aware of how they were joined to the hip in their current position and he didn't know if he felt uncomfortable or not. All he knew was that he felt a pleasant buzz just from Newt’s presence, even without any of Gally’s disgusting alcoholic concoctions.

 

The raven haired boy didn't know how to explain that although Newt was physically always near...It wasn't enough for him anymore.

 

Newt offered Thomas some more of the kabob (he had claimed ownership), he shrugged when Thomas shook his head, avoiding the blond's lively gaze.

 

“You can quit treating me like I'm going to break now,” Thomas said, never one to think before he spoke. Newt was midchew and took a moment to collect his response.

 

Eventually, he settled for deflection, “You haven't exactly been the most accessible either Tommy.”

 

Thomas knew this was true, he just hadn't wanted to admit it. The blond allowed some time to pass for his companion to gather his thoughts, when all Thomas wanted to do was to shout at Newt to stop being so damn aloof about everything.

 

Instead, he took a deep breath, “I didn't feel comfortable being so… normal? Happy… I’m happy with you and I then feel like an asshole for forgetting, even for a few moments, you know?” it all sounded stupid once he'd said because of course Newt understood everything he was saying, he'd lost people he loved too.

 

Newt bit his lip and passed his hand across his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose before replying, “I do know Tommy and I don't want you feeling like shit over living your life. I think you still need to give yourself more time--"

 

"Can't we just go back to the way things were?" Thomas asked, completely exacerbated by Newt constantly dodging him, "I'm just tired of missing you."

 

The blond's eyes lowered as he run his hand through his locks, he appeared almost as vexed as Thomas felt, "What if I don't want to go back to how things were?"

 

Newt's hushed whisper was barely audible and if Thomas wasn't already fixated on his every word, he would've missed it. His overactive imagination went on overdrive as he conjured all of the worst possible contexts for Newt's words; he was tired of him and didn't want to be friends anymore, or he blamed him for everything bad that had happened to them and their friends...God, he hated him.

 

Thomas could feel himself spiraling in the same way he did during the middle of the night when he ruminate on all of his mistakes when he was brought back by Newt's touch on his forearm. He took some hurried breaths before he turned towards his friend who was smiling sadly at him.

 

 _Oh_.

 

It all made sense to him. Different little moments took altered meanings at a million miles an hour as he realized how fucking thick he was being and had been since forever.

 

"I shouldn't have said anything..."

 

Frantically and before he lost his nerve, Thomas placed his thumb on top Newt's lips as his eyes grew wide with disbelief, "I don't want things between us to go back to how they were before either, but I do want you."

 

Newt's eyes were still as immersing and as wide as ever and shit Thomas needed him to saying something. Anything. 

 

Thomas knew how ridiculous he was being, but he really didn't think before acting and once he saw an understanding spread across Newt's face, Thomas's face flushed as he slowly removed his hand in order to allow his to speak. Newt took hold of it before he had returned it to his side and instead he held it to him. Thomas tried to breath like a normal human for a familiar electricity spread from the blond's touch.

 

"I meant what I said that night, you know," Newt said, tracing haphazard lines across Thomas's hand, "I love you, Tommy and every night since I've been beating myself up over pulling away. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I didn't want to find myself acting on my feelings so soon after your loss."

 

Thomas would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't pained whenever he thought about Teresa, but the pain was almost close to manageable now, when he never thought he'd make it this far. The remorse also had diminished to a degree, but he didn't think that would ever completely go away.

 

Newt continued, "I guess that makes me pretty fucking selfish. I know I should've said something, but I guess almost dying hasn't taught me any sense over this, has it? For shucks sake, I even wrote a bloody love letter."

 

Newt grinned to himself, oblivious to how Thomas's heart had warmed from his words, as he retrieved his necklace from around his neck. He was hesitant for a moment, he bit his lower lip but then dispelled his doubt as he gently opened Thomas's palm and placed his the silver cylinder for Thomas to have. 

 

Thomas took his time in examining it and eventually he opened it to reveal the note inside after he noticed how fidgety Newt was in anticipation, "Don't expect an epic poem or anything, it is the first letter--"

 

"Love letter," Thomas corrected, earning himself a shove from a flushed Newt, "Can I read it?"

 

Newt motioned his consent and Thomas found it adorable that Newt apparently couldn't help himself from hiding his head with his hands in embarrassment, "So should I read it out loud or...?

 

"Just bloody read it to yourself, okay you prick?" Thomas laughed, but soon sobered once he began reading:

 

_"Dear Thomas,_

_This is the first letter I can remember writing. Obviously, I don't know if I wrote any before the Maze. But, even if it's not my first, it's likely to be my last._

_I want you to know that I'm not scared. Well, not of dying, anyway. It's more forgetting. It's losing myself to this virus, that's what scares me._

_So every night I've been saying their names out loud. Alby, Winston, Chuck._

_And I repeat them over and over like a prayer and it all comes flooding back._

_Just the little things like when the sun used to hit the Glade at that perfect moment right before it slipped beneath the walls._

_And I remember the taste of Frypan stew. I never thought I'd miss that stuff so much._

_And I remember you._

_I remember the first time you came up in the Box, just a scared little Greenie who couldn't even remember his own name._

_From that moment you ran into the Maze, I knew I would follow you anywhere. And I have. We all have._

_If I could do it all over again, I would. And I wouldn't change a thing._

_My hope for you is when you're looking back, years from now, you'll be able to say the same._

_The future is in your hands now, Tommy. And I know you'll find a way to do what's right. You always have._

_Take care of everyone for me. And take care of yourself. You deserve to be happy._

_Thank you for being my friend._

_Goodbye, mate._

_Newt."_

 

After scanning the letter once, twice, three times, Thomas's noticed a few tears falling into his lap and he quickly dried them away. So many memories were flooding back to him, the pain of losing Chuck, Winston, and Alby, all the pain he caused them, the desperation of watching Newt fade in his arms... The regret over not having to tell him he loved him under such terrible circumstances.

 

Newt had told him, after confiding in him about how he busted his leg, about his fears of forgetting. If there was anything Thomas could have done to spare him the turmoil over his deteriorating condition, he would've done it in a heartbeat. He wanted to take his pain away and protect his best friend more than anything.

 

"How pathetic is it, that I couldn't be brave enough to just bloody come out with it and tell you I love you in my letter, better yet, in fucking person," Newt exclaimed, shaking his head at himself, "But other than that...It's true, I wouldn't change anything Tommy and it bloody kills me to see how much pain you are in. I can tell you barely sleep at night... You deserve to be happy just as much as the rest of us. You saved us," Newt declared, grasping Thomas's hand and he began to believe they were created to be held by the other, "And I'll remind you every day for as long as it takes for you to believe it too."

 

Thomas's throat restricted as he witnessed the endearment and love in Newt's eyes, he never thought someone could love him that much and he feared the fire behind his eyes. Even if they weren't tears of sadness, he didn't want to waste any more time.

 

"I don't think I'll ever deserve someone like you in my life and I need you so much it scares me, but I know what makes me happy and I know what I want and if you feel the same... I'm yours Newt, in whatever way you need me to be," Thomas knew he had so much more to say but this would have to do, "The night I first woke up, I told myself: "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll figure everything out." I've known I've loved you for a long time, but I guess I always settled for tomorrow. Tomorrow, after we rescue everyone, after we rescue Minho and after we get Teresa... Tomorrow, when we're safe and in the safe haven, I'd come to terms with the way I feel. And when I thought I would lose you, I felt void... of everything. But by then it'd almost felt too late. I never want to feel that again, Newt. I love you and I need you and I want you. That's enough to stop waiting for tomorrow."

 

During his speech, Thomas had closed the space between them and now cupped his beloved's face in his palms like something precious, their faces mere inches apart and yet not nearly close enough. Newt's eyes searched his as he blinked at him in surprise, but instead of moving away, he wrapped his fingers around Thomas's wrists, holding him as securely to him as he could. Thomas touched their noses, relishing in their mingled breaths, rushed and yet controlled, neither wanting to break the spell.

 

"Tommy..." Hearing Newt's whisper of his nickname with such devout affection, it felt as if he could feel the single utterance through his core and it stirred a longing in Thomas he couldn't describe. He tried to listen for any hint of uncertainty, "Are you sure?"

 

Thomas nodded, feeling a ticklish sensation on the tip of his nose as it brushed against Newt's, "Can I kiss you?" he questioned tentatively, endlessly enraptured by Newt's already dark brown eyes as they dilated further and his breaths quickened as his gaze wavered from his lips back to Thomas's eyes again. 

 

God did he want this, more than he had wanted anything in a very long time and he hoped he wasn't mistaken. Newt wanted this too.

 

Newt ran his tongue over his lips, Thomas followed its path with his eyes attentively, "Fuck Tommy, if you don't bloody snog me now--"

 

"That a yes?" he grinned, delighted by Newt's frustrated expression.

 

"Yes!"

 

Thomas closed the inch of space between them as he tilted his head and pressed their lips together in a rush of yearning and white-hot need. The blond’s lips were soft and firm and sweet like the fruits he'd been eating throughout the day. Thomas pondered if the rest of him would taste of salty seawater from wading in the shallows spearing fish for dinner.

 

Newt has quickly reciprocated, as he released Thomas's wrists to knead his hands into the fabric of his shirt. A current, hot waves of electricity buzzed beneath the surface. As if embers from a fire suddenly lit to life, simmered between them.

 

Thomas was completely elated and couldn’t completely process all of the sensations at once, he knew this had been inevitable for a long time, but that didn’t lessen the thrill of the moment. He was amazed by how Newt could be both so lax and steady against his lips.

 

Instinctively, Thomas reached for Newt's waist and grasped at his skin there, Newt gasped at the contact and Thomas swooned. Needing to feel more of him against him, Thomas pulled Newt even closer as their lips met three, four, five more times in desperate need of the other's taste and closeness.

 

Newt broke out of their embrace first, both suddenly remembering that they still needed to breath. The blond sighed something about how Thomas's stubble was “bloody hurting his face” and Thomas smirked as he took notice of his companion's blood red lips and dilated pupils, filled with flashes of the bonfire still burning lightly many yards away, and he thought he would be content simply staring into them forever as he leaned in to delicately nibble on Newt's lips, "You still love my stubble though."

 

This induced a delicious series of mewls from Newt and despite his complaints, Newt seemingly couldn't refrain himself from continuing his exploration of Thomas's skin for he quickly proceeded to overpower Thomas and took his lips for himself once more for a fleeting moment before moving on to trailing peppered kisses along Thomas's jawline.

 

Thomas's ran his hands through Newt's locks while he struggled to breathe and his gasps quickened as Newt continued kissing down Thomas's neck until he reached his pulse point, nibbling him there, in turn he moaned.

 

" _Fuck_ , Newt."

 

Tilting his head up at the sound to peer at Thomas, completely out of breath and his cheeks as pink as his own felt, hair in disarray with slightly swollen and smirking lips to match; God he was beautiful, "Is this alright?"

 

Cheeky bastard.

 

"Yes," Thomas breathed, delighted once Newt continued mapping the planes of his neck playfully, almost bruising and sometimes feather-light nips in a downward trajectory, he couldn’t help his small whines.

 

"Newt…”

 

The before mentioned minx then nibbled along Thomas’s collarbone and he attempted to suppress another whimper by digging his nails into Newt’s back under his shirt, eliciting a frisky “ow Tommy,” before the boy continued pressing wet-hot kisses over Thomas’s chest. Newt tugged at the offensive garment in his way and planted his lips along the scar over Thomas’s heart, causing his head to roll back as he helplessly continued to whimper obscenities towards the overhead stars.

 

“I love hearing you like this Tommy, but I really don’t want any shank interrupting us so--keep it down, yeah?”  Newt advised, however still ravishing him, which wasn’t helping in the trying to “keep it down” department.

 

Thomas wanted nothing other than to tell Newt to bugger off and never to stop because he wanted him. He wanted him so much he might just shatter and break into himself right there and then, so he ignored him and stalled, “You done this before? I swear you're too good at this.”

 

“Would you be jealous if I said yes?” Newt teased with a fiery glint in his eyes.

 

“Maybe.”

 

He punctuated the statement by pulling Newt up to kiss him, sucking on his lower lip until the boy moaned and tugged at Thomas's hair in raw need, “Jesus Christ Tommy.”

 

Newt’s forehead rested against his, their labored breaths intermingling like old friends. Newt took Thomas's hands, always his hands, then as if he couldn't bear not kissing him for more than a few seconds, he leaned in to press a fevered kiss behind his ear, his hot breath sent a shiver down Thomas's spine, “Maybe I seem experienced because I've been thinking about this moment for so long…about where I would put my lips, “ he trailed his them against the outer shell of Thomas's ear, “My hands,” he reached down to trace Thomas's sculpted frame beneath his shirt, “And where you would yours, “ and he sealed it all with a tug of his earlobe between his teeth.

 

Thomas saw stars and a shot of electricity went down his spine as he writhed against Newt and he feared the others who had long gone to begin readying for the night in their respective huts would hear his cries.

 

Something suddenly snapped within him and he overpowered Newt enough to straddle him onto the ground, pinning his hands over his head. The boy beneath him gasped, despite his smirk fading slightly in surprise, he seemed pleased with himself. Thomas wanted the satisfaction of erasing that cocky grin from his face.

 

Thomas had been feeling a deep seeded warmth spread from his lower abdomen but now is damn near impossible to ignore, to release some tension, he grinded his hips over Newt’s also hardening member, eliciting fevered moans from both as the struggling boy beneath him arched to meet him, “Do you have any idea how much I want you to fuck me right now?”

 

He would remember this night for the rest of his life and the way Newt’s hungry expression was so full of adoring sincerity and unfiltered longing, “Fuck Tommy, please. Please don't stop....”

 

....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, so fade to black because I cannot write smut to save my life apparently :)


	6. Epilogue: Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it y'all! Thanks for sticking around <3

One of several recurring nightmares roused Thomas in the middle of the night from his deep sleep. Before he could think about doing anything else, he reached to his side to feel for Newt's outline in the dark, gently stroking his warm cheek.

 

_He's okay, you're okay._

 

Slowly, Thomas sat up and placed both feet onto the stony ground on his side of the cot, he slowly breathed in and out as to calm his racing heart-rate. Some nights were better than others and he had assumed he'd moved passed these terrors, but perhaps these were one of those hindrances that would linger for longer still.

 

Thomas held back burning tears as he placed his head between his knees. He knew many others had nightmares, memories, and flashbacks of their own personal hells but waking up like this always made him feel alone, no matter how many times he'd spoken to Minho about their experiences and with others.

 

Thomas startled at a firm hand caressing his shoulder and he turned to regard his half-asleep partner, "Another nightmare? You try those strategies we talked about?"

 

"Right, thanks I forget."

 

Taking another deep breath, Thomas held his hand against Newt's heart, feeling his steady heartbeat like a drum setting the beat of his own, synchronizing together , "Newt, cot, tent, sand, blankets, tables..." and he continued on and on until he ran out of things and people to mention, attempting to ground himself back into reality.

 

The strategy really helped him, Vince had told Newt about while they were working not too long ago because he also had terrible nightmares sometimes, and Newt had told Thomas, "I don't really get worked up after one, but I mostly just kiss you until you wake up to distract me...So I should probably also take my own advice."

 

Thomas had assured Newt that he didn't mind the way he was roused from sleep by the lips of his misty eyed and whimpering boyfriend. It had been more of an issue when they had to share sleeping space with everyone, but now that it had been almost six months since their arrival to the safe haven and they had their own small cottage, they didn't have to worry as much about waking the others with as they explored each other over and over and whispered sweet nothings into the darkness until they grew tired enough to fall back blissfully asleep in each other’s arms.

 

There was one night where Newt hadn’t jolted awake from a nightmare, but he nevertheless woke Thomas to talk about his dream. He had been irked with his partner for all of two seconds, he was about to smoother him with the blanket before he registered Newt’s wide smile and glowing eyes, “Remember how I’ve been having dreams of a sister?”

 

Thomas attempts to suspend his sleepiness as he rubs his eyes, “Yeah, Lizzy?”

 

Newt nods, “I saw Sonya. Before I couldn’t place a face, only blonde hair and brown eyes, but it was clear in this dream,” Thomas smiled, sharing in his partner’s happiness, “I would like to think that I did have a little sister.”

 

Thomas had become still and quiet, watching the way the moon’s evocative rays illuminated Newt’s excited-bright brown eyes, “I wish I remembered, Newt. I would tell you if I did.”

 

Running his fingers over Thomas’s lips, as if sensing Thomas’s prolonged guiltiness festering in the pit of his stomach, he kissed him softly, reassuring “I know, Tommy. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. We’re all family.”

 

_Family._

 

"Better now?" he now questioned, waking Thomas from his memory.

 

Newt sighed as Thomas answered by kissing him lightly on his cheek as Newt drew soothing circles onto his side, "I love you Newt."

 

His adorable boyfriend in turn kissed Thomas on his forehead as he lowered himself into his arms, the soft gesture sending a pleasant warmth through him entirely, "I love you too Tommy. Come back to sleep now."

 

Just as soon as Newt's mumbled words left his lips, he was already fast asleep and Thomas smiled until his cheeks hurt and he too had drifted into a peaceful sleep, subdued by the boy at his side and the reassurance that they still have the rest of their lives to live within moments together, never again waiting on tomorrow for happiness to settle in.

 

 ....

 

_"You're all I need_

_And if all we've got is what no one can break_

_I know I love you_

_If that's all we can take_

_The tears are coming down_

_They're mixing with the rain..._

_We're grabbing at the fray for something that won't drown"_

 

\--"all I need" by Mat Kearney

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to leave a comment and or kudos to let me know if you're enjoying this fic :)
> 
> Follow me @yesshirbert on Tumblr.


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